


Can parking lots be romantic?

by LPayne



Category: Australian Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Real Person Fiction, Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Car problems, Confident Chris, Dance Clubs, First Kiss, First Meeting, Geek Squad Chris, M/M, Theater Tom, Timid Tom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-04-24 05:22:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4907062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LPayne/pseuds/LPayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom hasn't been the most outgoing person but he does still believe in love. And where's the best place to find love? Dance clubs! Right? Well maybe there are better places but sometimes you can get lucky. Sometimes you get lucky and find yourself a Chris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Can parking lots be romantic?

**Author's Note:**

> I've read tons of Hiddlesworth works and finally decided to write my own. Any comments or tips for this little writer-in-training would be most appreciated. Thank you!

Tom was staring. He knew he was but he couldn't stop, the man across from him was gorgeous. Who knew a simple, white, v-neck t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans could be so appealing? Obviously, the man did as he was now getting hit on by the fifth or sixth person since coming into the club just twelve and a half minutes ago.

_"Twelve and a half? Really?"_ Tom thought to himself,  _"did you start a stop watch as soon as he walked through the door?"_

Tom let out a sigh as he turned back around on his bar stool. Why did he even bother coming to these places if he never had the courage to initiate a conversation with anyone? Sure, he got hit on but they were usually sleazy drunks looking for just a hook up. Tom wasn't even sure he could go through with a one night stand. His resolve finally giving, he signaled the bartender for the tab and stood up, stretching his legs.

After paying for his tab and receiving a sympathetic look from the burly man behind the counter, Tom adjusted his satchel and left the club, avoiding dancing and grinding bodies on his way out. 

 

The chilly night air was a refreshing change from the thick and humid atmosphere of the dance club. Tom let in a deep breathe, his lungs filling with the cold, as he fished out his car keys from his satchel. Luckily, or maybe unfortunately, he wasn't even close to being drunk so driving wasn't an issue. As Tom approached his car, parked a block away, he could still hear and see the techno music and strobe lights of the club. There were a few people in the parking lot, that Tom noticed, was still very full. He checked his watch, 9:30 it read.

_"God I'm such a party animal."_ Tom said to himself sarcastically as he reached his car and tried to unlock the door. Tom sighed after quickly realizing that it wasn't budging. Maybe it wasn't such a great idea buying a car that was older than the queen. As Tom jiggled his keys for about the fifteenth time, he was interrupted by a voice. A deep, gruff, Australian voice. 

"Do you need help mate?"

"No thanks, I'm just-" Tom turned around and froze, deep blue eyes meeting electric blue ones. Standing in front of him, wearing a big, goofy grin was the Adonis from the club. Tom tried to say something, anything but he couldn't, he just stood there like a deer caught in gorgeous headlights. The guy chuckled and stepped closer to him. They were almost the same height, Tom lacking just a few inches.

"Here, let me..." the guy smiled, extending a muscular arm to take hold of Toms car keys, which Tom quickly realized, were still in the lock.

"Its all in the wrist" he said with a quick couple of flicks and twists. The door opened with a click. 

"T-Thanks." Tom said, now composed enough to talk.

"No problem." the man said with another annoyingly cute smirk, "I'm Chris by the way." the man- Chris said, his accent making his voice deeper.

"Tom." Tom replied extending his hand. Chris tried to hide his smile as he enveloped Tom's  hand with his own. His grip was firm but comforting, like a warm hug. Chris was also not afraid to hold eye contact, his friendly gaze making Tom want to look anywhere else. When Chris released his grip, it felt cold and Tom willed himself not to reach out for it again.

"So your leaving already?" Chris asked, his brows pinched.

"Well I, uh, I have an early day tomorrow." Tom stuttered, hoping that it would be a believable enough excuse, "are you going home too?" 

A nervous look came across Chris' face, "Actually I saw you leaving and kinda followed you." Chris started, rubbing the back of his neck, "sorry I know that's weird but I didn't want you to leave without at least trying to talk to you." 

Tom couldn't help but notice that Chris was even cuter when he was nervous.

"No it's not weird." Tom replied with a small smile as relief flooded Chris' face, "If it weren't for you, I would probably be freezing my arse off walking home."

Tom didn't know what came over him, maybe it was Chris' warm, easygoing smile, but the next thing he knew he was asking Chris for his phone number. After some of the longest seconds in Toms life, Chris enthusiastically said yes.

"Sorry, I didn't really peg you as a first move kinda guy." Chris said as they were exchanging numbers.

"I didn't know I was either." Tom replied, secretly proud of himself.

"Well I'm glad you did because if you hadn't, I definitely would have." Chris' voice dropped an octave, "and sometime's I can be a little..." Chris stepped even closer, their faces only inches apart, "forward." 

Tom's back was pressed against the side of his car, Chris' warmth and built figure surrounding him like a blanket, blocking out the cold air. "Yeah?" was all Tom could manage before Chris' lips were on his. The kiss was firm yet gentle as Chris' lips moved rhythmically against his own. Every movement, every small moan Chris made sent jolts down Tom's body, most of them going into his groin. The thought would have embarrassed Tom if not for Chris' own excitement pressed against his inner thigh. Tom wrapped his arms around Chris' broad shoulders as Chris' hands made their way to Tom's hips, pushing him against the side of his car. 

The kiss didn't last very long as Chris and Tom both jumped when the blaring horn of Tom's cars alarm went off, cutting the heated moment. Tom cursed frantically pushing the unlock button on his keys. He turned around, he could already feel the heat rising to his face, to Chris laughing. Tom's embarrassment was quickly melting away as his own laughter joined Chris'.

"Well so much for the romance." Chris said smiling.

"Can parking lots be romantic?" Tom asked, licking his lips. He could still taste Chris on them.

They stood there for some time until Tom broke the silence.

"Well I should probably, you know..." Tom said, motioning to his car. 

"Yea, me too." Chris replied, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on his lips. "I'll call you tomorrow, I'd love to take you out to dinner." Chris finished, making his way to his car.

"O-Ok, I'll be waiting." Tom replied, "I-I mean I won't be waiting like sitting, waiting by the phone but-" his face was heating up again. 

Chris laughed from across the lot, "You need to loosen up, Tom." Even from where he was standing, Tom could still see Chris' grin. "I can help you with that." Chris added with a wink. Tom smiled shyly and waved as Chris got into his large car and pulled out of the clubs parking lot. Tom stood there holding his phone to his chest and smiling to himself. For once in a long time, he was happy that he went out that night.

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Can you clean a keyboard with soap?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris fail's to call within the promised time...

Tomorrow. That's what he said.

It's been two days. 

Maybe Tom was overreacting, maybe he's been busy with work or, and this would be a total tragedy, but maybe his pet died. There could be tons of reasons why he hadn't called him back but that didn't rule out some of the more likely ones. Like maybe he found someone else or forgot about Tom altogether. No, that couldn't be it, there was no way two people could share a kiss like that and then sweep it under the rug. Tom tried calling him twice already but only got his voicemail. And two was already pushing it, he didn't want to seem desperate.

Tom sighed, ceasing his typing and resting his elbows on the polished granite kitchen counter, his laptop in between them. A lavish cup of tea sitting on a matching saucer, as well as a copy of his favorite book, Othello, next to his laptop. On top of the whole Chris situation (no pun intended) he also needed to finish this script by next week. Why had he agreed to write a revised, modern version of Othello? Curse his desire to experience all facets of the theater world. He already promised Ben, the production manager of the local theater he worked at, that the script would be ready by Monday.

You would think that this would be a cinch for Tom, seeing as he practically breathed Shakespeare but script writing had never been apart of his repertoire of skills. He was more in the plays rather than coming up with them. He massaged his temples, and took a sip of tea. Had Tom not have so much on his plate, he probably would have remembered that the fresh cup of tea was still scalding. Tom cursed the moment the liquid touched his lips, instinctively letting go of the handle.

It was like slow motion, the cup of tea spinning as it made its way downward, hot tea going with it and so, Toms hopes. He was already up reaching for paper towels as the tea cup landed on his laptop, hot tea spreading all over the keyboard. Luckily, the cup didn't break so there was no glass all over his laptop as Tom frantically wiped away as much of the tea as he could, muttering, "fuck... please no..."

After most of the tea was gone, Tom was surprised to find that his laptop was still on. Maybe the gods of messy tea accidents had spared him. Unfortunately, they had not, Tom tried to move the mouse using his mouse pad to no avail. None of the keys on the keyboard seemed to work either. "Shit." Tom cursed, running a hand through his mop of curly hair. He was on the verge of tears, how was he supposed to get this script done now? Sure he hadn't gotten very far but what he did have, he worked hard for. This weekend was supposed to be peaceful and progressive, not depressing and disastrous 

Tom wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. No, this wasn't that bad, all he had to do was call the computer repair techs. After all, it was just a broken keyboard right? After taking a few deep breathes and calming his shaky voice, Tom called up the Geek Squad number he found in the yellow pages. After informing a lady with a deep Cockney accent about his situation and telling her the address of his sky rise apartment, she told him that a specialist would be coming in about twenty minutes. Tom let out a sigh of relief as he thanked her and hung up the phone. Finally something was going his way, the specialist would come and fix his computer and then he could resume with the script.

After a few minutes of mulling around his apartment, Tom decided to take a quick shower. Some of the tea had landed on him, and it was better than taking quick glances at the script on his laptop screen. He was right in the middle of a sentence, the blinking text cursor mocking him. Torturing him.

Tom made his way to his small bathroom, the one down side of this apartment. Stripping out of his comfy pajama pants and cotton shirt, Tom stepped into his tub. Turning on the water, Tom felt his stress ebbing away as the cool water eventually turned warm. He stood there for a minute just enjoying the feeling of water rolling down his body, the mist creating a dense atmosphere around him. Tom squirted a palm full of the deep woodsy scented shampoo he loved and ran it through his hair, letting it form a lather on his scalp. After washing away the sudsy bubbles, Tom hopped out of the shower and dried his body with a towel. After years of running, he had developed a nice muscle tone. Tom was still a little on the pale side but he was gradually getting tanner.

Changing into his sweats and a nice loose shirt, Tom started blow drying his hair as he was interrupted by the door bell. Stepping out into the living room, Tom shivered and turned the thermostat up a few degrees as he passed it on his way to the door. Tom put on his easiest smile as he opened the door. The man standing in the hallway quickly erased it off his face. Tom, apparently, had the the same effect as the man's smile dropped and was replaced by a look that only could be described as surprise, relief, and guilt. Standing there, wearing a pair of khaki pants, a white button down shirt with a black tie that had Geek Squads logo on it, and a big black carry case, was Chris. 

 

 

 


	3. How much are keyboards?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a small world after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry its been so long! Due to some small technical difficulties I was unable to post but those have been resolved (by getting a new laptop over Christmas) so I should be able to post more frequently. Thanks for sticking with me. <3

Chris, the guy who kissed him two nights ago and failed to call back, was now standing in his doorway. Tom's grip on the door handle tightened. He could practically feel his heartrate pick up and the beads of sweat that were already forming. He silently cursed himself, nothing had changed, Chris still had the same effect on him as when he first saw him in the club. Only instead of the t-shirt and jeans, it was a white button down and dress pants, a black tie neatly finishing the geek squad look. Chris' hair was different too, styled to side instead of messily spiked. Much to Tom's dismay, Chris looked even cuter with this on. Seeing Chris again made all those feelings come rushing back, resulting in only one feeling, overwhelmed.

"Tom?" Chris' voice snapped him back to reality and to the realization that he had just been standing there for a couple of seconds to long. Chris was looking at him, expectant. Those eye's still so blue and unwavering; Tom was suddenly very interested in the hallway's carpeted floor.

"Uh...hi." was all that Tom could manage. It was strange, he never got stage fright when he was performing at his local theatre but talking to Chris was like acting at the Globe in front of Shakespeare himself, hypothetically of course.

Chris gave a small laugh, "Hi."

Tom could feel his face heating up. He didn't realize how much he missed the sound of Chris' voice, it brought him back to that night, pressed against his car. When did this happen? When did Chris gain this power over him that made him turn into a pile of goo every time the man looked at him? It surprised Tom that he felt a tinge of anger along with his embarrassment. After all, it was Chris who didn't call him back, it was Chris who didn't pick up his phone or answer his texts, and now it was Chris who was standing at his door wearing an easy smile like nothing even happened. Well it wasn't going to be Chris who had the last laugh.

Tom took a breathe, steadying his nerves like he did before a performance.

"Tom I-" Chris started, stepping towards him, but Tom was faster.

"My laptops in the kitchen." Tom said, all in one breathe, stepping to the side to let Chris in.

"Oh...ok, yea." Chris' easy smile turns into more of a forced one, like he just remembered why he was there.

Chris stepped into Tom's flat, the faint smell of herbal tea he picked up in the hallway was stronger in here. He could also smell jasmine and pine that he determined was coming off of Tom. To be close enough just to smell him made Chris' stomach tighten. Tom's flat managed to be simple yet elegant. With solid creamy white walls and ornate, black lamps on equally as ornate table tops. A couple of modern looking paintings hung above a comfortable looking couch in what Chris assumed was the living room. A bouquet of white flowers sitting on a glass table tied everything together. Somehow, it didn't surprise Chris that Tom had the decorational taste of a high strung prince from the 1800's trying to fit in with the modern times.

The door closed behind him as Tom made way into the kitchen.

"The laptop's on the counter." Tom said, signaling with his hand. Chris followed the gesture and found it sitting on the granite surface.

The countertop was built into the wall of the kitchen, creating a small bar, with a large opening to see inside the kitchen. Chris took a seat on one of the spinning stools in front of the laptop. At first look it seemed fine, a window open to some sort of story that someone was in the middle of typing, but upon closer inspection Chris found that none of the keys or mouse were working, just like the call had said. Chris placed his case to the side of the laptop, tea related accidents were definitely not common and Chris couldn't help but wonder if the Brit drank to much of this stuff. After a short inspection, Chris' gaze wandered to Tom in his neat little kitchen. His back was turned to him as he was filling a kettle with water.

"Are you making more tea?" Chris laughed. Tom turned to him, his cheeks starting to blush.

"N-No, I'm just...boiling some water for my dinner tonight. I'm making...uh...pasta."

"What's that then?" Chris pointed to a pack of Earl Grey, his eyebrow raising. Tom let out a small laugh, hands up in surrender.

"Fine, you caught me and yes, I will admit that I don't help out with the stereotype but I'm usually really good with my tea, Chris"

A smile spread across Chris' face. Tom looked comfortable, relaxed, his body language almost completely different then that night in the parking lot. It filled Chris with an unusual feeling of happiness to see Tom like this. His skin was glowing, his dark blonde curls bouncing slightly every time he moved. Chris swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. Ever since that night, Chris had all intentions of calling Tom but his job had him traveling all over London. It got especially busy around this time of year and no matter how hard he tried to make time, something always came up. He promised himself that he was going to call Tom tonight but he guessed he lucked out.

"So how's it looking?" Tom's voice interrupted his thoughts. Chris didn't even hear him come out of the kitchen, much less come to stand behind him.

"Oh, uh good, well actually not so good, the tea managed to get into the keyboard's circuits."

Chris spun around on the stool to face Tom, who was standing almost in between Chris' legs. Chris rested his palms on the knees to resist the urge to pull Tom in by the waist.

"So..."

"So that means you could either get this one repaired, or you could just buy a whole new keyboard, which would be faster."

"Great." Tom sighed, "and how much would that cost?"

Chris licked his lips, "Not too much, I could text you the details, if you want."

Tom crossed his arms, his face flashed with angst, "I guess you could but...would you?"

Chris bit his lip, the ball was back on his court.

"Tom, look it's been a busy couple of days-"

"Obviously." Tom interrupted.

Chris sighed, Tom wasn't going to make this easy but he guessed he deserved it.

"I know your mad at me and I don't blame you, I'm pretty pissed at myself too but I need you to hear me out."

Tom let out a small, exasperated breathe and took the stool next to Chris. It was nice being this close to him again. He missed the natural warmth that Chris gave off. Being so close, Tom could smell Chris' deodorant and see the small wrinkles on his face. He noticed Chris' pink lips and felt oddly proud that he knew what it was like to kiss them.

"Chris, I'm not mad, I'm just...disappointed."

Chris gulped, "That's even worse." Tom tried to hide his smile. He couldn't help but feel better that he wasn't the only one that felt bad.

"I don't like this feeling Tom, I don't like knowing that your upset with me,"

"You could have texted me, a simple "busy sorry" would have been enough."

"I know and that's totally my fault. I wanted to tell you but my schedule's been so hectic and when I get home I'm so exhausted I fall asleep immediately, wake up, then feel like shit for not calling you."

Tom blinked, this Chris was new to him. He lacked the confidence and charm that Chris usually had around him and it upset and excited Tom to see him so vulnerable.

"I get it Chris, people get busy, I just wish I had known that you would before getting my hopes up so high."

"Tom...I'm sorry I disappointed you. I'll make it up to, I'll...buy you dozen's of tea boxes."

Tom laughed, "Thanks Chris but I think I have plenty."

Chris smiled, "So we're ok?"

Tom placed his hand on Chris', "We've always been ok."

Chris wanted to do nothing more but kiss him then and there but he probably would have to work up to that point again.

"So, how about dinner, tonight?"

Tom grinned, getting up, "That sounds great, how about we have it here? I can make us...pasta?"

Chris stood up with him, "Deal."

Tom walked Chris to the door, a smile never leaving either of their faces. When Chris got to the threshold he spun around and wrapped both arms around a surprised Tom's waist. Tom soon put his arms around Chris' neck, on his broad shoulders.

"I'll see you tonight." Chris whispered against Tom's ear.

Tom shivered, being against Chris, Tom felt something that he never felt with another person before. With Chris it felt...right.

"I'll text you." Chris smirked as he let go of Tom.

"If you don't, I swear I'll hunt you down Chris." Tom said half jokingly.

Chris laughed as he was walking away, "You know I'd like that, right?"

Tom rolled his eyes and closed the door, his heart beating out of his chest.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. My writing always ends up so dialog heavy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. xoxo


End file.
